by A. L. Brooks
Jenny had ordered Adrienne a deliciously crisp white wine, and she sipped from it enthusiastically after falling into her leather chair. Jenny grinned as she raised her glass.
“To the afternoon off!”
“Hear, hear.”
They drank in silence for a few moments.
“So.” Jenny put down her glass and sighed. “Schweitzer all lined up?”
Adrienne nodded. “Patience,” she said when Jenny’s brow creased into a frown. “Trust me, I will get your name out there, and it won’t be long before that sort of thing won’t happen to you. But for now, just remember, pick your battles. Don’t waste your energy on people like that; you’ll never change their minds.”
“If you can’t go through something, go around it.”
“Exactly.” Adrienne tipped her glass in Jenny’s direction and laughed. “You do listen to me.”
“Sometimes.” Jenny smirked and reached for her drink, a lurid pink concoction with fruit chunks lining the edge of her glass.
“Dare I ask what’s in there?”
Jenny laughed. “I don’t think you really want to know.”
“As long as I don’t have to carry you up to your room.”
Jenny waggled her eyebrows.
Adrienne rolled her eyes. Jenny, she had come to realize, flirted mildly with pretty much anyone, but it was always in this gentle, teasing manner. Except when she was seriously attracted to someone. Then, inexplicably, she’d become tongue-tied and blush with alarming regularity. Hm, rather like her behavior with Morgan at lunch.
“I bet Morgan could carry me up to my room,” Jenny said, her tone wistful. She stirred idly at her drink with its ridiculously bright cocktail umbrella.
Adrienne’s memory served her up an image of Morgan’s arms, that muscle definition that she’d tried so hard not to look at these past few days. Yes, Jenny was probably correct. Those arms would feel wonderful wrapped around her, holding her tight as she carried Adrienne up to her room, kicking down the door and laying her gently on the bed…
In a flush of heat, she chided herself—the woman is seventeen, no, wait, nearly eighteen years younger than you. Thinking about her like that was…wrong. But was it? Paula’s new young paramour was twenty years younger, and everyone seemed to be applauding her for landing such a youthful catch. Adrienne seemed to be the only one in their circle who found it distasteful. Of course, everyone else just assumed she was jealous. Which she was, but it wasn’t only that. What was that word for women who had much younger lovers? Tiger? No, cougar, that was it. She shuddered. Ugh, imagine walking around with that label hanging over your head.
No, her admiration of Morgan’s physical attributes was just that—admiration. Anything else was too ridiculous to dwell on.
She sipped her wine and tried very hard to push thoughts of Morgan’s arms out of her mind.
Chapter 7
Laurie Schweitzer was not a nice person. Adrienne used patience she didn’t know she possessed to keep herself from rolling her eyes every few minutes at the words spouting from the golfer’s mouth. She’d worked with some egos in her time, both in front of and behind the camera, but Laurie was one of the worst. Sure, Adrienne could acknowledge she was an incredible player who’d been at the top of the women’s game for years, but that didn’t mean she had to be an asshole about it. Laurie was very good at making snide little remarks about former and current players behind statements that seemed innocuous on the surface, but Adrienne had seen through each and every one of them. I’m going to have to cut a lot of this.
Adrienne sucked in a deep breath. “Sorry, I’m going to have to interrupt you there, as we’re running low on time.” She sweetened her words with a big smile.
Laurie shifted in her chair, and a nerve above her left eye twitched. “What would you like to finish up with?” she asked in a tight voice.
“Well, as you know,” Adrienne said, ignoring the faint scowl on Laurie’s face, “the main focus of the film is the majors. You’ve won two yourself, and I’m wondering what you would say to all the up-and-coming golfers who’ve yet to win one. What do they need to have to reach that pinnacle?”
Laurie’s smile was almost feral. “Well, a major certainly isn’t going to be handed to you on a silver platter.”
Adrienne’s stomach flopped—that comment could only be a dig at Morgan Spencer or at least at the public’s obsession with Morgan not yet achieving what her father had, thinking it should be a given. She’d heard a rumor that some top players were fed up with that angle being beaten to death in the press. Clearly, Laurie was one of them.
“Focus,” Laurie said. “Your focus needs to be 100 percent at a major. You’re up against the very best, and any slip in concentration will cost you, as some have already learned.” Her smile widened but if anything became colder. “Only the best of the best win the majors on our tour. Some great golfers never have and never will. Great isn’t good enough. You have to be exceptional.”
Adrienne motioned to Toby to cut.
“Thank you for your time, Laurie,” Adrienne said.
“My pleasure.” Laurie stood and stretched. She was about Adrienne’s height but with a slightly stockier build. “Are you staying around for the whole tournament?”
Toby and Diane packed up their equipment, and a member of the hotel staff appeared to clear away their coffee cups.
“No, we leave tomorrow afternoon.”
“Want to maybe get a drink later tonight, grab a bite to eat? I have a suite.”
Adrienne looked up quickly, trying to keep her shock from reflecting in her expression. “Um, that’s kind of you, but I have plans.”
Laurie didn’t even look perturbed. She leaned in and whispered, “Well, if you change your mind, just have the lobby staff call up to my room.”
With one last lingering look at Adrienne, she turned and left the room.
Adrienne glanced around, but neither Toby nor Diane gave any sign of having heard that last exchange. Relief flooded through her. It was bad enough that…snake of a woman had propositioned her. Ugh. She felt unclean after forty minutes in Laurie Schweitzer’s presence.
“Toby, you okay to finish packing this up? I’m going to head back to my room.”
“Sure thing, Adrienne.”
“Great, thanks. I’ll see you later for that taco I promised you.”
He grinned. “You bet.”
When she reached her room, she dumped her bag and notes on the bed and ran the shower. Ten minutes under its heat and she felt somewhat restored. She was still reeling from Laurie’s approach. Did I give her any hint I was interested? I’ve been out of the game for so long, I probably wouldn’t know it if I did. She counted it back. A year single and not looking since Paula left, plus ten years with Paula and a couple of years before that of happily doing the single thing. So, yes, thirteen years since I was last out there looking. God, I feel even older now.
Her phone rang just as she finished dressing. “Hey, Jenny. What’s up?”
“San Antonio is kicking my ass.”
“You probably deserved it.”
“Ha ha. Seriously, Adrienne, this heat! I’m wilting by the second.”
“Oh, my poor sweet child. Did you get the shots I wanted?”
“Jeez, your sympathy sounds so sincere.” Jenny snorted. “Yes, boss, I got your shots. Can I come home now? I really need a shower and a beer.”
Adrienne smiled. “Sure, come on back. I just wrapped up with Schweitzer.”
“Ooooh, how’d it go?”
“It was…interesting. Buy me a glass of wine, and I’ll spill everything.”
“You are on! See you soon.”
“She did not!” Jenny’s mouth dropped open.
Adrienne smiled ruefully. “I’m afraid she did.” She shuddered. “And I’m only telling you this so that you�
�re aware this kind of thing happens. It’s not the first time an interview has ended that way for me.”
“Really?” Jenny leaned in. “Have you ever accepted an offer like that?”
“I don’t kiss and tell.” Adrienne smirked when Jenny huffed. “But seriously, be aware. It’s one reason why you should always make sure you are never alone in the room with the subject. Unfortunately, these days, far too many people think these situations are easy pickings.”
“What if…?” Jenny picked at the label on her beer bottle.
“What if what?”
It was obvious what she wanted to ask, but Adrienne wanted her to say it out loud.
Jenny sighed. “What if you want to do the asking? Or what if it’s someone who you’d happily go out with?”
“One, never, ever do the asking. No matter how much you like them. If it got back to the company, you’d be fired. It’s unprofessional. Two, if they ask you, make an arrangement with them for once the project is complete. If they don’t want to do that, then you know they’re only really into you for that night and nothing else. Absolutely not worth it.”
Jenny tilted her head. “Voice of experience?”
Adrienne sighed. “My first and only such mistake many years ago. Luckily for me it was the last day of the project, so when a whisper got back to my boss, she gave me a warning but let me keep my job.”
Jenny chugged the remainder of her beer. “Okay, advice noted.”
She looked a little shaken, but Adrienne was pleased. It was a harsh world they operated in, and Jenny was still too green to know all the pitfalls that could await her.
Jenny sat up straighter. “So Chicago next!”
“Yes. I’m looking forward to it. We’ve got the pre-tournament filming with Spencer and with So Park, and it’ll be interesting to see how each of them takes to that.”
“Yeah. And, of course, Naomi Chase returns.”
“Indeed.”
“You heard the buzz? That she and Morgan were dating but not anymore?”
“I did hear that, yes. I don’t think it’s a secret that either of them is gay, but they did seem to want to keep that one quiet.”
“I heard it all crashed and burned after the Miami Open last year. That Morgan found Naomi cheating on her with someone at the hotel they were staying in.”
God, no wonder she wants to keep to herself. I know what that kind of betrayal can feel like.
Adrienne hadn’t realized she could have something so fundamental in common with Morgan, and it frustrated her. As a producer-cum-journalist, she’d like nothing more than to get to the bottom of both that story and whatever it was that went on behind the scenes in the Spencer family. But now, armed with the knowledge that Morgan had also been cheated on, she was swamped with sympathy for the younger woman, and her desire to hunt down a good story was less than sharp.
“So what time is Toby meeting us?”
Jenny’s question saved Adrienne from her thoughts, and she was thankful. Morgan Spencer was merely the subject of the film Adrienne was making. There was no room for personal feelings about anything that Spencer might or might not be going through.
Adrienne could almost hear Tricia tutting in her ear.
“You did good.” Harry smiled and heaved the bag onto his shoulder.
“Thanks. It felt good.” Morgan rolled her shoulders and gazed up at the bright blue Chicago sky.
He cocked his head at her when she looked back and met his eye. “You seem…different. Something’s changed since Phoenix.” In the next moment, his eyes went wide. “You got laid!”
“I did not!” She glared at him. “And even if I had, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Oh, you so would. You wouldn’t be able to keep it to yourself.” He laughed as Morgan stomped past him. “So if you didn’t get laid, what did happen?”
She couldn’t tell him. It would sound…dumb. Maybe Charlie, but even she would probably roll her eyes and laugh.
“Nothing. Nothing happened. We had a good day’s practice. That’s all.”
“No, it’s not just that.”
Jesus, he was like a dog with a bone.
“Harry, nothing happened. Now, is there anything you think we should work on tomorrow?”
“Isn’t tomorrow when the camera crew arrives? And that woman from the production company?”
She couldn’t help the little flutter that ran through her. God, now I want to roll my eyes at myself. “Yes, but they don’t want to meet with me until the afternoon. You and I could get a serious practice session in earlier if you think we should?”
“Do you think so?”
She hated when he did that, answering her question with a question, but she also knew why he did it, so she took the time to think it through.
“No, actually, I don’t. This was good. Everything seems to be working as I want. I’d like to lose that slight drift to the right I seem to be getting on my drives, but that’s all.”
“Yep, that drift started to happen back in Phoenix. I’ll take a look at some tapes from there and see if I can nail it down because it isn’t obvious.”
“Cool, thanks. Want a drink with me and Charlie later?”
“Hell yeah.”
Back in her hotel room, she changed into her running gear before heading out to the Lakefront Trail. She was thankful their hotel was in the city and not out near the golf course they’d be playing for real in a couple days’ time. She ran for forty minutes, enjoying the strong breeze that whipped across from the water as it cooled her heated skin. Harry’s observation pinged back into her mind, and she smiled ruefully. She hadn’t realized her mood had lifted so much after Phoenix, but it made sense. Adrienne just made me feel so at ease. That’s all. There’s nothing more to it than that. There can’t be, for crying out loud.
That last thought sobered her and brought her back to reality. There was no room for anything complicated in her life right now. She had just climbed to her highest world ranking, and she’d be pretty stupid to let anything compromise that. If there was one thing she’d learned from observing her father when she was a child, it was to remain focused on the goal. And her goal was twofold—to win her first major and to get to number one—so she needed to be even more vigilant. No matter how attractive the alternative.
“So you ready?” Charlie asked, after wiping her mouth.
They’d eaten healthily for once, both of them aware they had a tough stretch coming up, with key tournaments back-to-back. The superfood salad had been surprisingly filling, and Morgan felt virtuous as she washed it down with a diet soda. She would allow herself one small light beer tonight, then no more alcohol until the tournament was over.
“Yeah, I am. It’s all feeling pretty good. How about you?”
“Ditto. The knee’s doing really well, which is a big relief, I can tell you.”
“You didn’t say you were worried about it.”
Charlie sighed. “Yeah, I was worried I’d jinx it if I said it out loud. I know the doctor said it would be fine, but until you put it through a couple of tournaments, you never know.”
“True. Well, I’m pleased for you.”
“Thanks.” Charlie looked at her watch. “What time did Harry say he’d get here?”
“About now. Want to move to that comfy couch?”
“You read my mind.”
They settled into the couch; the big stuffed chair opposite would be fine for Harry.
“So before Harry gets here, some gossip.” Charlie leaned in, her eyes shining. “Want to hear it?”
“Always.” Morgan didn’t know how Charlie did it, but she always had the scoop on everybody after each tournament she played and even some she didn’t.
“Laurie hit on one of those TV women, in San Antonio, and got shot down in smokin’ flames.”
Morgan cle
nched her fists. “What?”
Charlie blinked. “You okay?”
“Um, sure. Which one?”
“Which one what?”
“Which one did she hit on?”
Even saying the words made her feel sick. The thought of Laurie trying anything with either Jenny or Adrienne was revolting. Morgan had heard plenty of rumors, of course, about Laurie Schweitzer but had never seen her in action herself. Probably because you never go to any of the social events or hang out with the other players long enough.
Charlie looked at her quizzically. “The older one, the one who’s running the show. Alison?”
“Adrienne.” Morgan’s stomach jumped, and heat spread across her chest. “Laurie didn’t, um, touch her or anything, did she?”
“Ew, no! No, just asked her out and got turned down. Apparently this Adrienne looked horrified. Well, who wouldn’t?” Charlie shuddered.
Morgan chuckled and willed her heart to resume its normal pace. “Well, yeah.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
For a split second, she was tempted to tell Charlie, to try to explain why the thought of Adrienne made her pulse pound and her hands shake and had been doing so since they parted in Phoenix, but she couldn’t even explain it to herself, so there was no point.
At that moment, Harry strolled over to their cozy corner and threw himself into the big chair.
“Hey,” he said by way of greeting, and Morgan didn’t know whether to be thankful or annoyed that he’d interrupted their conversation.
Morgan was nervous, and Adrienne couldn’t begin to fathom why—the woman had been exposed to cameras and interviews virtually her whole life, so what was it about today that made such a difference?
Harry, whom Adrienne had taken an instant liking to when being introduced half an hour ago, frowned, his tanned, weather-beaten face a landscape of crevices and creases. Morgan had just missed two short putts while Toby filmed her, and Adrienne knew they’d have to try again. It wouldn’t do to show Morgan Spencer missing every shot on a documentary about the best women’s golfers.
